


New Project Squidbeak Splatoon

by DelphiaDallhaus



Category: Red vs. Blue, Splatoon
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, First work on ao3, but haven't happened in the order presented, canon counselor and npss counselor differ greatly and this is on purpose, does that make sense, everyone is an OC, octarian racism, oneshots that are probably canon, please don't kill the author, slice of life i guess, splatoon!project freelancer is new project squidbeak splatoon, the reds and blues will not be appearing in this fic for now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-20 09:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelphiaDallhaus/pseuds/DelphiaDallhaus
Summary: New Project Squidbeak Splatoon; Many words come to mind when the people of Inkopolis hear the name. Some think of the greatest soldiers alive, some think of menacing terrorists. But whatever you think, you're not thinking of the Red and Blue teams for a reason.The Splatoon x Red vs. Blue crossover no one asked for, but I delivered anyways. New Project Squidbeak Splatoon is Inkopolis' own Project Freelancer, and the agents that work for the Project spend more time standing around and doing nothing than fighting in this series of oneshots.OC submissions allowed! See the Rules and introduction for more info, and send your OC to me (Delphia) on AO3 or Quotev.





	1. Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The awkward chapter where Delphia thanks people you haven't heard of and advertises her own works. Sorry.
> 
> Don't care about the into and stuff? Skip over to chapter 4.

Aaaah! I finally got around to making an AO3 account. First order of business; import this piece of shit from Quotev to AO3. I do love Quotev, and I am much more active on it than I am on AO3, but what can I say? It's a dying website, and there's barely any Splatoon or RvB fans left. A tragedy, it is. Before we get onto the real thing, however, I would like to thank my co-author, Corra, for, well, everything. She's my best friend online, and seriously helped a lot, whether it be editing, writing, submitting her OCs, or, well, anything really. She's not on AO3, but she is on Quotev- go follow her at < a href=https://www.quotev.com/lostincx >her Quotev profile here. < /a >

Not only that, but I'd like to point you over to < a href=https://discord.gg/SHC6AA2 > THE OFFICIAL NPSS DISCORD! < /a > I'm so excited about this thing. Talk to the writers of NPSS, get announcements and previews, scream over ships, just have a good time in general with the fanbase... of the fanfic. Huh, that sounded weird. Nonetheless! If you like NPSS, I'd advise you check out the server.


	2. Rules and Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delphia explains stuff through copy/paste.

The Plot So Far:

The original Project Squidbeak Splatoon was founded during the Great Turf War, performing illegal crimes in a desperate struggle to defeat the Octarians. It was shut down in the aftermath of the war, after the government decided licensing and sponsoring a project meant to break soldiers with experimental weapons and technologies probably wouldn't look good if someone started up any anti-Inkling propaganda due to the incident.

Revived and now formally known as New Project Squidbeak Splatoon, it strives to save the clueless Inkling race from the Octarians a century after the war and the project's demise. Back and as ambitious as ever, New Project Squidbeak Splatoon recruits the best of the best in the army to train and send out to fight the Octarians, all while keeping up the facade of peaceful Inkopolis.

It's a hell of a choice to fight for a secret that could cost Inkopolis the carefree populace, but the benefits of near-free college, deadly weapons at the palm of your hand, and crazy-good insurance might just be worth risking your life. And your physical and mental state.

But for now, the soldiers of Project Squidbeak pretend they aren't doing anything totally illegal, and have a little fun at it. Especially now that we're taking in the best rebel Octolings as our own instead of capturing and executing them like we did a century ago.

Meanwhile in the middle of nowhere (somewhere between Octo Valley and Inkopolis suburbs, no one knows), the... Not best of the best soldiers await, getting into silly shenanigans instead of fighting each other in a war that's apparently greater than the Great Turf War. They wear their colors on their tentacles as well as their armor.

They might be doing something productive. No one really cares to check on them, for good reason.

Also known as a series of oneshots and drabbles in a what-if universe where the soldiers of Project Freelancer and the Red and Blue teams are inklings and octolings in a world where the wrong color of ink is as deadly as a bullet.

Rules to Submit an OC  
\- MUST be a Splatoon OC  
\- MUST be original, and not a canon character   
\- Doesn't have to include any information about their life in the RvB universe- I can take care of that.  
\- The OCs will most likely be a part of Project Freelancer (now dubbed Project Squidbeak for the AU), but might, might, /might/ be with a different faction. Don't get fussy with me if your OC doesn't get to be a Space Pirate.  
\- Please send me the most recent and relevant bios and resources for your OC- I can't write them into the story if you just give me their name.   
\- I will NOT take credit for your OC! I will link the creator in the following chapter, a list of all confirmed characters.  
\- Octolings AND inklings are allowed! However, if you choose to submit an Octoling, they might be a prisoner of war OR a rebel to their own race.   
\- You may send in more than 1 OC, but any of your OCs that you submit after your first may not make it in.

\- I will probably write some oneshots and drabbles for various pairings. Please be reminded that all these oneshots are non-canon. Please tell me if your OC would not like to be in a pairing.

Official New Project Squidbeak Splatoon Discord Server

A central hub for even more NPSS content. Talk with the writers, contributors, and readers, get a few sneak peeks at the next chapter, hear about new announcements before everyone else, and gossip about ships. Check it out here!

New Project Squidbeak Splatoon is now on Archive Of Our Own!

I recently made an AO3 account- guess what's now my first posted fan fiction on there? It's basically all imported from the original Quotev fiction, plus an AO3 only disclaimer A/N thing. Here it is for your reading pleasure!

Official New Project Squidbeak Splatoon Character Bios

Want to submit an OC into NPSS, but can't find a good bio template? Have no fear! I've recently typed up a template exclusively for NPSS submissions and characters in the Splatoon x Red vs. Blue crossover. The only rule? Just add something to credit Delphia or NPSS at least once. Keep in mind that this is recommended, and by no means required to submit an OC. Copy here for your own uses.

TAGS (I will tag each chapter with these, and add noteworthy tags on this list should it come up. Mild profanity is to be expected in almost all of the chapters. There will be no smut, lemon or NSFW content.

CHARACTER DEATH; profanity; violence; canon divergence; non-canon; canon; possible spoilers for Splatoon/Red vs. Blue


	3. Character List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A handy-dandy list of the characters in the story.

CURRENT OCS

Healthy reminder: There is a NPSS character bio template for use. Just credit NPSS and/or Delphia if you use it. [Check it out here.](https://www.quotev.com/phosphoraisme/journal/4041404/NPSS-Character-Bio)

New Project Squidbeak Splatoon

Matyr.ix/Director - Created by Delphia

Exe.ka/Counselor - Created by Delphia

Balie Wanamashi/Agent California - Created by Delphia

Gennlae Squie/Agent Tennessee - Created by Delphia

Mish Squnami/Agent New Mexico - Created by Delphia

Vivin Gnodin/Agent Alaska - Created by Delphia

End/Agent Nevada - Created by Delphia

Squirt Inkomi/Agent Wisconsin - Created by Corra

Ika Yaki/Agent Hawaii - Created by Corra

Jess Squiderson/AI program Jessica - Agent Wisconsin's AI - Created by Hopey

Ink Octovise/AI program INK.1 - Agent California's AI - Created by Hopey

Fami/AI Program Fami.com - Agent Nevada's AI - Created by Delphia

Researching Agent Manager R.A.M./Project Squidbeak's Intelligence - Created by Delphia

 

More categories/factions will be added at a later date.

 

Subcategory: AI

Fami/AI Program Fami.com - Project Squidbeak; Agent Nevada's AI - Created by Delphia

Jess Squiderson/AI program Jessica - Agent Wisconsin's AI - Created by Hopey

Ink Octovise/AI program INK.1 - Agent California's AI - Created by Hopey

Researching Agent Manager - Project Squidbeak's Intelligence - Created by Delphia

 

Neutral

Www.Ram - Agent Nevada's mother; weapons engineer - Created by Delphia

Suzuhara Inkomi; Agent Wisconsin's cousin - Created by Corra

 

Creators:

Delphia www.quotev.com/phosphoraisme

Corra www.quotev.com/lostincx

Hopey www.quotev.com/moogoesthecat

 

DISCLAIMERS:

I will not create a new faction for one character, or have only one character in a faction at a time. There is practically no use for a faction that is literally just one person; I will probably rearrange some teams to create more oneshots. There may be one character in two categories or factions because of this.

The difference between a subcategory and a faction is that a subcategory is a part of a/many factions, and is not necessarily classified as its own  faction  For example, an AI may be transferred between characters, regardless of a character's faction or the AI's origin faction.

In order to choose agent (state) names for each Project Squidbeak agent, I looked at a map, held a random state name to a character, and decided whether said character would look like a Nevada or a New Mexico or whatever. Needless to say, Red vs. Blue already has canon characters with certain states, so OCs may not be named after those select states. This is to prevent confusion, should a RvB fan read this fic and be confused with characters. (Underneath this disclaimer is a list of canon agents.) Please, don't ask me to have your character be Agent [state]. I will probably not name them after that state just because of that. 

Canon Agent States (an OC in Project Squidbeak may not be named after these):

Texas

Wyoming

Florida

Washington

North Dakota

South Dakota

Maine 

Connecticut 

Carolina

New York

Utah

Ohio 

Iowa 

Idaho

Georgia


	4. Paint (Project Squidbeak)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story finally starts in a scene based off of the Tex v. Wyoming, Maine and York fight.
> 
> Alaska is new to the project, and must eb tested on her skills. She's underestimated.
> 
> Tags: Profanity, mild violence but not really, canon divergence

**Alaska - 9**

**California, Mexico, Tennessee - 0**

**Get rekt, California, Mexico, Tennessee.**

**Round Ten: the paint round will begin when all participants stand on their mock spawn points. Please, hurry the fuck up.**

“Ah, fuckberries,” said a worn Agent California.

He slouched beside Tennessee (who was nodding tiredly yet furiously as only Tennessee does) and a growling Mexico, loading up a Sploosh-O-Matic with pink paint not unlike the bright shade of his armor.

“Tell me about it,” She moped and strapped on her green paint tank behind her own armor. California was almost certain she was half asleep with the lazy way she adjusted her Inkbrush and how loose her grip was on the handle.

Across the table and the team, Alaska tilted her head to the side. “What’s so bad about it?” She asked.

California and Tennessee stared at the newbie- no doubt that smugness would be gone in the next two weeks.

However, Mexico held a lime-colored, gloved hand on her shoulder, halfway closed eyes traded for a sickeningly sweet tone. “Imagine; that same stinging in Turf Wars when you get splatted.”

“That doesn't sound too bad,” said Alaska. She filled up her signature Slosher with her lightish-brightish blue.

“Now imagine that burns like hell, hardens and leaves you incapable of movement, and is an absolute bitch to clean off.” Despite her toxic words, Mexico held Alaska in a one-armed hug that reeked ‘I fucking hate you’ and waved a hand in the air like a rainbow as if getting trapped in a layer of paint wasn't an embarrassing way to go.

“Then I better not get shot. You can take care of that for me.” The blue soldier ducked under Mexico’s arm and sauntered off.

Mexico just watched- no, glared- as she entered her mock spawn, letting her anger radiate from outside her helmet to infect everyone in the room. 

The other two agents had finished prepping for the next round, and Tennessee held the lime soldier’s shoulder, just as she did with Alaska. “Don't worry,” she said, trying to hide the exhaustion in her voice. “I think everyone also wants to bash her face in.”

Mexico snorted. “Good luck getting to the damn thing before I do.”

Tennessee nodded and lingered for a small second before trudging off back to her own mock spawn. 

**All participants are standing on their mock spawns. Round ten is a paint round, in case you missed that.**

All four agents tuned out R.A.M.’s snarky protocol speech, dreading the sensation of the hardening paint and surveying the arena.

It was a small section of the training room, with a barrier of white light displaying the boundaries of the arena. The agents knew the light would shock them if they tried to get out- it was the one hit Alaska had suffered all day. 

**If you are shot by paint that is not your assigned color, it will harden and you will be paralyzed until the end of the round. If you have been paralyzed, you are down and out for the round.**

Pillars of cement poked out of the floor to create corridors and forks- Tennessee realized it would be ever-so-convenient for a sniper such as herself.

**If you are placing bets, please put in 300 coins in the Director’s name for me, betting on Tennessee. The Director has forgotten at least 2 reminders I set for her.**

Tennessee slouched and hung her head- of course R.A.M. would remind her of her low ranking.

Above the training room in the oversight balcony, Agent Nevada was the lone spectator.

A visual popped up on her helmet’s screen; a holographic boy wearing a purple helmet and an indigo tee. 

“Have no worries,” he said condescendingly. “I’ve got it covered.”

Nevada rolled her eyes. “I’m ever so proud of you, Fami.”

“You know you love it.”

“What- are you trying to hit on me?”

“...I thought it sounded just cool at first, but… I didn't mean… Ah. Forget it.”

Sometimes Nevada wondered if Fami was spending too much time near Agent California.

**The last agent standing who has not been paralyzed will win this round. Round ten will begin on the word “Shit-tits.”**

“Who designed this intelligence?” Agent California wondered aloud.

“The Counselor, who else?” Mexico replied.

**Shit-tits.**

With that, an air horn blared, and the four charged into the arena.

Mexico dragged her Inkbrush in front of her, running around the arena, while Tennessee shot long pathways ending right at each column and California just shot at the ground.

The lime soldier tapped a button on the side of her Mark VI helmet, turning on teamspeak. “I’m running through the area. If there’s blue ink across the trail, you can track her.”

“Got it.” Tennessee’s headset crackled to life. “Currently covering anything we might have left- aw, christ- shit!”

**Update: Agent Tennesee has been paralyzed. Agents Alaska, California and Mexico remain.**

Mexico winced at the sounds of paint splattering and instant crystallization. Poor Tennessee, always so vulnerable when using her E-Liter 3K. 

“Sounds like Alaska’s already on the move again.” California said over his own com. The rattling of a gun was familiar enough to Mexico, and there were no telltale sloshing sounds.

“You can bet. Try and keep away from Ten if you see her.” Mexico zoomed right past a shell of armor and pastel blue. “Adding onto that, don't come to me. Found Ten, and it looks like she was attacked from behind.”

“Yikes. Careful.”

The agent finally saw the glow of the arena’s border, and skidded across the floor. She held her Inkbrush defensively across her chest and surveyed the surrounding areas. “Doesn't look like she’s by this corner.”

Mexico placed down her brush again after reloading paint and sprinted across the border of the arena.

She didn't even notice when Alaska slid behind her back and started dumping blue paint over her head. 

Mexico’s reaction was fast on her standards; she pivoted and slashed at Alaska just as the cold paint started to dribble down her helmet.

However, she was still too slow to take down the enemy with her as Alaska leaped back with grace to avoid a wave of green paint and admire her handiwork.

Mexico’s last movement before the paint completely paralyzed her was a half-formed middle finger.

**Update: Agent Mexico has been paralyzed. Agents Alaska and California remain.**

Alaska smiled, then went again on her merry way to track down California.

 

The man had all but covered the arena in pink paint, and was now swimming underneath the crystallized top layer, in search of Alaska. R.A.M.’s update had kept him on his toes, and for god’s sake, he was going to win the team at least one round. A score of 0 wins would be way too embarrassing, and the Director would never let him forget it (“Agents California, Tennessee and Mexico have failed yet again against a rookie recruit, despite being in Project Squidbeak for a much longer time than 20 minutes,” he could hear her say in that cold, razor-sharp voice of hers).

When he heard the sound of sloshing paint and footsteps from above, it was time to strike. 

He burst from the pink paint mere seconds before the Slosher in Alaska’s hands could cover up where he once swam. Immediately, Alaska transformed into a squid herself and retreated without a sound.

Despite his suspicions, California pursued hot on her blue trail. She continued to swim away in a path of paint she had laid before while California started to splatterdash to catch up.

He had a nice time following Alaska until blue paint blew up in front of his face and trapped him inside a flower of crystallized paint.

**Update: Agent California has been paralyzed. Round ten finished. Winner: Alaska, again.**

Agent Nevada was confused as well. “What? How’d that happen?”

Her AI pointed to a slow motion replay on the side of her helmet. “Check it out.”

The replay featured California dashing past one certain hallway. Just before he passed it up, something started to glow a faint blue.

Despite the weird camera angle of the training room security cameras and low definition, the shape was unmistakable- it was a suction bomb.

The replay ended abruptly when the glow died down and Balie stopped dead in his tracks. 

**Game, set, match. Round time: 3:02. Winner: Agent Alaska. Final scores: Agent Alaska, 10; Agents California, Mexico, Tennessee, 0. Please clear the floor; cleaning will run in 5 minutes. Someone get Agents California, Mexico and Tennessee out of the hardened paint.**

The spectator grimaced- it was her turn today.

“Hey, you wanted to spectate. Your fault,” Fami said with his head in his hand.

“Whatever.” Nevada got up from her seat in the balcony. “Fami, I need you to scan for injuries that will need to be dealt with.”

“Doubt you’ll find anything. It’s training paint, not bullets.”

“Still, it’s best to be sure.”

Alaska smirked through her helmet and dropped off her weapons, while Nevada entered the training room and passed by her.

“Nice work,” she said, though it was clear she wasn't too fond of her. “Welcome to the team.”

Alaska only nodded.


	5. Behind (Project Squidbeak)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corra wrote this oneshot for this series. So I don't claim anything here this time. This was low-key edited by me, only to preserve world building and delete typos (though you won't see much difference).
> 
> Wisconsin is tested on the hardest mission he's ever received; from the highest people in New Project Squidbeak Splatoon, as well.
> 
> TAGS: OFF SCREEN CHARACTER DEATH, mild violence, mild profanity, canon divergence, tbh the author doesn't know if this should be canon or not so that's for you to figure out

Agent Wisconsin's chest heaved as he breathed heavily. He was using all the cloth in his backpack for the serious wounds in his chest and side.

"Fuck..." he breathed, looking down at his bleeding spots.

"Suzuhara..."

・・・

_"You're taking your job too seriously, and you're left with serious injuries," the voice of his older sister yet deceased cousin had told him once many years ago._

_"As long as I'm doing what feels right, I don't mind putting myself in danger." the young Squirt told her, before he became Agent Wisconsin's identity._

・・・

There were snipers at every corner he could imagine.- thank god this area was unmonitored. He was probably going to bleed out here.

He fought back tears as he stood up. _Gotta keep fighting..._ He knew Agent California- no, Balie was on the other side of the place, and turning on his radio seemed risky, since these were highly-trained soldiers they were fighting against. Multiple, too, due to some risks taken by the cocky agent.

"I have to keep going... I made a promise..."

・・・

_You're going to die eventually," she said as she pulled out a glass shard from her younger cousin's thigh with tweezers. She heard a sharp gasp and she comforted him, grabbing the clean cloth and pressing it against the bleeding wound._

_Agent Wisconsin spent some time writhing as his cousin began to comfort him through the pain he was experiencing. Eventually, he came to trust her and he seemed much more relaxed._

・・・

"Alright..." He breathed in short ragged breaths as he began to walk out from cover. charging up his weapon. "Remember; you're one of the most highly advanced sharpshooters to ever live, Squirt," he told himself in an attempt to boost his confidence.

It was quiet. _Too quiet._ But not for long. 

_A glint shown and his reticle glowed red for just a second before he let go of the trigger; an ink trail appearing, an octopus soul flying into the air, and an enemy Octoling flopping in the air. He bit his bottom lip._

_"Bingo, bitch."_

_She'd probably continue to scold him, even to this day, if she were still alive._

_・・・_

__"I should have numbed you before I did this," the orange-tentacled girl mumbled to herself. "I can't believe you did this again..."__

__"I'm keeping us safe," Agent Wisconsin snarled, but he eased immediately upon the scent of fresh flowers._ _

__Agent California had entered the room. "Sorry, am I disturbing something?" He asked, but she shook her head._ _

__Of course, she likes him, Agent Wisconsin thought as she continued to pull out glass shards and stitch up wounds, occasionally pressing a clean cloth against bleeding scars._ _

__"You're a wild one, Squirt," Agent California said, amused. The only female raised an eyebrow._ _

_・・・_

_The room around Agent Wisconsin now turned white and he looked at the mirror behind him. "Good?" He asked the people standing at the mirror, most notably the Director._

_She simply nodded. "It'll do."_

_Squirt looked down. There were no wounds, but it stung, and in the simulation, it felt real._

_"We will introduce you to the rest," she said._

_Squirt nodded._

_・・・_

_Once all that shit was done, Agent Wisconsin fell asleep. He didn't feel anything except for the buzzing in his ears._

_"Wake up."_

_"You're going to die."_

_"Please, Squirt."_

_"Wake up."_

Squirt thought he was awake. He walked out of the room. The cloth that covered his wounds was still there. He tugged some off to see the bruised instead. He looked at the target he was supposed to kill and did last minute. They weren't there, but he saw in one of the training chambers as he was escorted personally to the open hall. 

_______ _ _ _

But something bothered him. 

_______ _ _ _

It was all too familiar to him, but he didn't want to recognize it ever again. 

_______ _ _ _

_She's dead to me._

_______ _ _ _


	6. Hi, Mom (Project Squidbeak)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nevada's fondest memories are of her mother, pink monster eyes, and the small stone house outside of Inkopolis.
> 
> Tags: CHARACTER DEATH, canon divergence, very very mild profanity, personally Delphia's favorite chapter so far

The house was small, but enough for three, with a discreet stone exterior like the rest of the houses in the old neighborhood before they left. The lawn hadn't been groomed in ages, but it was as lively as the women who lived there.   
Inside, there were too many memories; the somewhat charred dining room table where Mom once experimented, Daughter watched in awe, and Dad tried to patch it up with duct tape before it exploded. Daughter’s room was still pastel yellow at the core of the walls, behind layers of tacky, glow in the dark stars, band posters and shelves. Dad’s antique music albums still stood along the shelves of their living room, Heart and Led Zeppelin collecting dust. Mom had taken over the old nursery for her own projects- thank god they could afford inflammable desks this time around.  
The house was small because one third those memories remained.  
Nevada always thought maybe, just maybe, if she did what she wanted to, then it wouldn't feel so empty. The hollow halls, piles of immaculate research papers, and empty music said otherwise.  
Nonetheless she turned the key to her childhood home. The click reminded her of walking home from school, with formulas and facts to brag about to Mom.  
The door creaked and revealed layers among layers of dust among the couch and the old TV.   
“Welcome home, dearie!” End paused, a smile growing on her lips. She waited for her mom to greet her with a hug and a kiss, just like every time she came back home.  
It took her a minute of a fading grin, a pale face, and a choked sob to realize End wasn't hearing that, and never will again.

* * *

End cracked open the lock, pushed aside the oak door, and shouted, “Home! Happy birthday, Dad!”  
The sound of dishes clattering and the fridge opening and closing called her name through the halls and to where her mom lurked. “Hey, dearie!”  
The smell of sweet dessert lulled End to her mom’s side. She stood at the stove, admiring a round, white cake.  
“You made cake without me?” End sounded absolutely distraught for a half-dead middle schooler.   
“Sorry, dearie. You were at school.” Mom smiled sheepishly, as all parents do, and looked at End's indigo eyes with her own pink ones. “But chin up! How about you help me make the frosting?”  
“Sounds cool to me. We’re donating this one too, right?”  
“I’d be a monster if I didn't.”

* * *

“Hey, Mom, where is Dad? You said he would be here!”  
“He is, dear. He’s just… Not here, physically. He’s here, but we can't see him right now.”  
“Oh… Cool! Hi, Dad!”  
…  
“Hey, Mom, why is everyone wearing black?”  
“Everyone decided to, so they can all recognize each other.”  
“But why not yellow?”  
“Yellow? Well, yellow doesn't really describe how we're feeling. We’re feeling black today.”  
“Huh. What feeling is black?”  
“It feels like acceptance. And a good prayer.”  
…  
“Hey, Gram! Why are you crying?”  
“...Sometimes it's good to have a good cry, Www.End, because then you can let the world know you care.”  
“Really? Can I cry with you?”  
...  
It took until one kindergarten day until Www.End realized why Gram was crying, her family wore black, and why Dad was gone. She buried her head into her subtraction worksheet and cried.

* * *

End fiddled with an ink canister as she sat on the loveseat by the window, dubbed the confession couch when it became a family tradition to say something true when you sat on it. Ever since the battles she fought taught her how life saving the thing was, she found it a lot easier to breathe when it was by her. She admired the sleek paint used on the lid, and saw her indigo eyes stare back at her though the empty glass. Her dad must have had ocean eyes.   
“What’s up, dearie?” Her mother sat on the other couch. The lady’s voice had rusted with age, and her tentacles were spotted gray from too many migraines from her work. However, those pink eyes of hers never dulled, and when she looked into her daughter’s eyes, she could feel her heart practically stop and her face pale, and it didn't surprise her why she was such a scary old coot. Those eyes concealed everything.  
Which made it all the more intimidating to sit on the confession couch, where it had become a rule that you had to say something true whenever you sat on it.  
But for Christ’s sake, End had seen down the barrel of an ink-stained Octoshot, had an Octobrush slash down her back, and disassembled an Inkstrike without dying, so not even those deathly eyes could shoot her down.   
That must have been the reason why End looked back at her mother’s hot pink eyes with her own violet ones, and said in a voice she didn't know she owned, “Me is lesbian.”  
It was also why she immediately clapped a hand over her mouth and made a fist in the other, then stuttered an apology for her failure in language.  
However, she never thought she would ever see those eyes waver. And while those eyes were of a monster’s smell, they were the eyes of a mother’s heart.  
“Do you mean that?” Not even a sergeant could detect emotion. Those eyes concealed everything.  
There was a silence, and End had taken to looking back at her face through the glass reflection. “Yes.”  
There was a tight warmness grabbing her. She sat still, not even thinking about what consequences it would have, should that be an Octoling with a vengeance be choking her.  
Then she saw those maroon and gray tentacles through the glass.  
She had abandoned all logic now, and just hugged her mother out of pure instinct.  
“You know,” she said when the mushy hug was over. “Me is bisexual.”  
Did we say the hug was over? No, no it wasn't.  
Those pink eyes weren't a monster at all.

* * *

The two had walked into Mom’s car quietly. The moving truck had taken most of the furniture to the suburbs of Inkopolis, so the van only had their powder bags, a suitcase, and a beat-up backpack.  
Www.End looked through a window and watched the houses move back and part ways. There was the mean principal’s, and the mean homeroom teacher’s, and her best friend’s house.   
“You understand why we’re leaving, right?” Mom said from the driver’s wheel.  
“Yeah.”  
Silence.  
“You know, if you ever find anyone who makes you feel uncomfortable, tell me. I’ll make sure to keep you safe.”  
“I know.”  
“This country is getting too violent, dear. Remember this, End. Never, ever resort to violence as long as you can be peaceful about it.”  
“Don't you make weapons for a living?”  
Silence.   
“In Inkopolis, you won't be called Www.End all the time. It’ll be just End.”  
“I get it.”  
“It’ll be okay. It’ll make sure you can do what you want more. And you’ll get to go to public school.”  
“I hate military school.”  
Silence.  
The houses had long gone now, and there was only paved roads and dead grass. Sometimes the van would pass by trees and construction sites.  
At the next stoplight, Mom opened an album and placed the CD into the music player. A few buttons later, a mournful acoustic guitar melted the cold walls.   
“Your father loved this band, even though it was older than the Octarians.” She said. End saw a thin lipped smile through the mirror. “This song is called Stairway to Heaven.”  
“I guess I like Dad’s taste in music, then.”

* * *

Nevada wore her armor inside the house. Her mother’s fascination with the circuitry and craftsmanship made it worth the price of cleaning up the now-dirty floor. “Check this out, Mom.”

_[Processing: program./Fami.com/1.exe]_  
[Buffering]  
[Buffering]  
[Initializing visuals]  
[Initializing audio]  
[Wifi accessed]  
[Windows launched]  
[Privacy policy launched]  
[Audit policy launched]  
[program./Fami.com/1.exe online!]  
[Uploading to real world persons] 

_“Annnnd I’m up!”_ Just beside Nevada’s helmet, the Fami.com came to life in a hologram. He straightened out his helmet and shirt, before noticing the lady in front of him with wide pink eyes. _“Oh, hi. I swear you're not smoking anything.”_  
“Fami!” Nevada scolded, then cleared her throat. “This is my AI, Fami.com. Each agent of Project Squidbeak is supposed to get one. Since I’m the best agent on the leaderboard right now, I was the first to get one.”  
“A… I…” Mom said slowly. “What's the ‘A’ stand for?”  
“Mom, I thought you’d know this. Advanced-”  
“I know what it means!” Mom rushed up to Fami, who was soaking up the attention. “Ohhh my goshie gosh, I thought I’d never be able to see a bonafide AI in my career! What’s he at, 13 megabytes of storage and intelligence management!?”  
Fami seemed to stand up straighter, and you could practically see his smirk through his helmet. _“18.8, actually-”_  
“Aweeeeesome. And what’s your ability skill thing!?”  
Nevada and Fami nodded. Mom’s right arm, which had been flailing with excitement, stopped in midair.  
Her jaw dropped, then curved into a grin. “Awe. Some.”  
 _“What I did was shut down some of the electricity in your brain,”_ Fami explained smugly. _“By cutting off that, there was nothing to trigger movement in your arm, which we use to make sure some enemies are…”_ He turned dramatically. _“...obliterated.”_  
Nevada cringed at the mention of death. Even though her mother developed weapons for a living, she hated the idea of death- especially when it was her daughter’s hands that were bloody.  
Instead of the lecture she braced herself for, Mom leaned just at Fami’s face and squinted. “Tell me your secrets.”

* * *

End sat on the confession couch without trembling or fear. “I’m joining the army,” she said when her mother’s eyes were on her.  
“Are you sure?” And there it was. Words devoid of anything she knew. Robotic and cold.  
“Yes...” The response was weak, so now she upped her volume. “Yes, I am. I firmly believe in fighting for the Inklings.”  
“They’re taking in Octolings now?”  
“It’s rare, but…” She faltered. “Yes.”  
End made the mistake of looking at her mother’s eyes, eyes that watered when she said that.  
“But… You might die,” she barely whispered. “And there might be war soon, against the Octarians.”  
End sighed and sat by her mother on the normal couch. “I’m not saying that I’m going to be 100% safe, but I’ll make sure to come home a lot, in one piece. And I think, even if a war is to be declared, I’d be happy if I could fight for what I believe in.”  
Her mother embraced her. She just sat and let her mother cry on her shirt and wrapped her own arms around Mom.  
“Oh, End, dearie,” she wept. “My strong, beautiful girl.”

* * *

Ram brought silk poppies and hydrangeas to the headstone under her favorite tree.   
She placed them by the granite slab, where grass had started to grow.  
The lady's tentacles were covered in the shade of the leaves from the bright, blinding sun. She was aware of the dirty looks inklings were giving her for a soldier’s cemetery, one that held soldiers that fought against her own a century ago.  
“Hello, dearie.”  
She looked up from the blades of grass and to the name etched on the black granite and just wept.  
It was the farthest she’s gotten in a sentence when she visited her daughter.

* * *

“Mom?” Agent Nevada was home from Project Squidbeak for the holidays. She washed dishes while her mother mashed potatoes. “Did you ever know the director and counselor of Project Squidbeak?”  
Mom thought for a moment. “Wasn't the director’s name Matyr.ix?”  
“Yeah, and the councelor was Dr. Exe.Ka.” Nevada closed the dishwasher and turned it on. “Did you know that they developed an intelligence for the ship?”  
“I remember Matry.ix saying she had designs for an AI before she left the office, yes.”  
“They named it after you.”  
The sound of mashing stopped. “Really?”  
“Researching Agent Manager, R.A.M for short.” Nevada gave Mom a glass bowl. “They must have looked up to you.”  
Mom sighed. “Those girls. I knew they were ambitious. I just didn't know they’d be working for the military, too.” She placed the bowl on the dining room table. “Weird. I thought Matyr.ix was pretty pro-Octarian.”  
“Weird indeed.” Nevada didn't know how weird, but it just didn't sit right. 

But it was Christmas Eve, and Nevada would be damned if she wasn't End for even just one winter night with her mom.


End file.
